All That Fire And Gold
by alphayamergo
Summary: Sydney Sage was taken from the world too soon. Adrian Ivashkov is going to get her back. or: The Orpheus and Eurydice AU.


**AN: You know what happens when you listen to the Hadestown soundtrack while reading _that_ scene in Golden Lily? This. This happens.**

Without Sydney, the world stretched out empty and alone.

An hour after Sydney's body had first been found, Adrian had thrown his lyre into the trees with as much force as he could muster. It had taken another two days for him to creep into the woods and reclaim it. It was the longest he had gone without playing in his entire life.

With Sydney gone, the music he had played seemed to be gone, too. He had written her so many love songs, had sung sonnets to her from the street as she hung from the open window above him. Without her, the sonnets were dead words, crumbling into grey blocks in his mouth.

It had been her father, because of course it had been. Jared Sage, who had sat as an archon for years and now sat on the boule, had never been happy to have a hetaira for a daughter. He had been even less happy to have Adrian Ivashkov for a son-in-law. Sydney, though. Sydney had never wanted the kind of son-in-law Jared had looked for. There had always been a part of her that had rebelled against Jared Sage.

_Does it matter?_ thought Adrian bitterly. She wouldn't have been dead if she had just followed the path Jared Sage had laid for her. Instead, she just would have been locked indoors, speaking to no man besides her husband, hidden away from her sisters and mother. There had been no place for a woman like Sydney in this world, not even in a city that prided itself for being the most civilised in the world. Sydney's life lit all of Athens' hypocrisy in dazzling colour, too painful to look at but too damn loud to look away from.

Sydney Sage had never been given the opportunity to live the life she would have wanted. Nobody had ever wanted to hear her voice, had never wanted to read her words. She could have lit the whole world on fire if she had only been given a change. All her magic, all her kindness, all her intelligence, every single part of her had been stolen from the world by a father who couldn't bare to see his daughter shine like molten gold.

There was no room for love songs any more, not with Sydney gone. The world had dulled into shades of grey without her. The music would have to match.

Adrian opened his mouth, and started to sing.

* * *

Sydney Sage had first met Adrian on her very first night working as a hetaira.

She had been wearing a red gown with golden jewellery hanging from her neck and wrists. She hadn't chosen her own clothing; that job had been up to Lia, Abe's favourite seamstress. "You weren't raised for this," Abe had told her.

He was right. She was an Attic woman, and for most of her life, she had known her place. She and her sisters had been kept to the top floor of their villa whenever someone outside the family called over, and wrapped in thick, heavy cloth whenever she left the villa. One day, she had always known, she would live in the top floor of her own villa, with no sisters and no mother, just a husband twenty years older than her. That was the way life was meant to be lived, her father had told her. She had read the treatises of Xenophon and of Aristotle and found any logical fallacies that there were to be found, desperate for any excuse. At ten years old, she had even taken Plato's _Republic _to her father. "Are dogs divided into hes and shes, or do they both share equally in hunting and in keeping watch and in the other duties of dogs?" she had read to him. Her father had laughed in her face and told her Socrates had been executed for a reason. She had not been raised to converse with men, to draw attention to herself, to talk and laugh and flirt.

She didn't regret her choice. Carly still lived in the top floor of her husband's home without any sisters to keep her company, but her husband was not Keith, and that was enough.

Sydney took a deep breath, smoothing down the folds of her dress. _For Carly_, she reminded herself. She had sold her soul for Carly, and she wouldn't fail now. She stepped through the doorway and fixed a smile on her lips. "Gentlemen."

She wasn't the only hetaira working tonight. Julia glanced up from her conversation and flashed her a smile; Kristin gave her a half-wave without hesitating in whatever she was saying. Most of the men were already crowded around the hetaira. She glanced around the room, her eyes settling a man in the corner, swishing wine around in his goblet. She came around the room to stand next to him.

"Are you alright, sir?" she asked.

His lips quirked up in a bitter half-smile. "Sir," he repeated, amused. "Never been called that before."

"Are you alright?" tried Sydney again.

He turned to look at her, his green eyes gleaming in the dark. They seemed too green, more the vivid green of an emerald caught in sunlight. He held up his glass, the wine sloshing from side to side. "I'm living up to my parentage."

Sydney blinked. "Your – parentage?"

"My _mother_," he said. "Apparently I have too much of her in me. My father says that's why I'm not able to do anything right – or anything _human_, at least."

She almost jerked away, but talked herself out of it just in time. He had both eyes, and his lower half was human as anything. There weren't any siren men – or at least that what she had always been told – so he had to be human, surely. "I don't live up to my father's expectations, either," she offered.

"What, daddy dearest didn't want his little girl owned by the snake?" he said, voice sardonic.

"Abe doesn't _own_ me," said Sydney sharply. "It was my own choices that led me here."

"What choices?" muttered Adrian. "The Fates are the ones who make the decisions. They weave their threads with no regard for what it does to us."

"We all have choices," said Sydney. "Thinking otherwise is only an excuse, a way to get out of responsibility for your actions. I _chose_ to become one of Abe's hetaira. I _chose_ to talk to you. And I can choose to walk away from this conversation at any time."

He looked at her, surprise written over his face. Sydney wiped her palms against her dress as subtly as she could, dread building in her chest. One conversation and she had already insulted one of the first customers she had met. Abe would be furious. After a long moment, though, he said, "I'm Adrian."

"Sydney," she said, and he smiled.

* * *

The ground did not feel stable. Sydney's stomach roiled as she opened her eyes and struggled to her feet. Someone reached down and she took the hand gratefully.

"Where are we?" she asked the man who had helped her.

"You don't remember?" he asked. When she shook her head, he continued, "You're dead."

"I'm -" she broke off, memories rushing in. Her father had been there – for all of his flaws, at least he had the decency to see his sins through himself – disappointment dripping from him.

"Perhaps enough of your soul can still be saved," he had said. "Perhaps there is enough left uncorrupted."

"Are you sure, Dad?" she had interrupted. "Because he's done _everything_ to me."

She was dead. Jared Sage had never been able to accept having a daughter as wild as her.

Sydney looked over the man's shoulder. They were on a raft, and at its head stood a man with silvering hair and an eyepatch, an oar in one hand. The ferryman cut through the water smoothly, a practiced hand, as if he had been doing this for a million years. He probably had.

"So this is the River Styx," she whispered. The water was dark and choppy, waves splashing on to the raft and wetting her feet. She looked away after only a moment, desperate to escape the thousand screaming faces lurking just under the water.

"Not much further," called the ferryman.

"Good luck," said the man.

"You, too," breathed Sydney. Judgement was coming for her. She didn't regret a single one of her decisions, but doubt ate at her bones. She had always done what she had believed to be right, but that didn't mean the gods would agree.

When the raft reached the other shore, the ferryman helped each and every passenger off. Sydney stepped on to the marshy ground, eyes darting nervously around her. There was Cerebus, his eyes flashing as each of his three heads surveyed them. The ferryman held up his hand, and Cerebus subsided, bowing his heads. Sydney's heart hammered in her chest as she passed the hound. She tried to keep her footsteps silent for only a few moments, before she realised that no sound was coming from her feet at all. The ground didn't seem to know that she was walking on it. No footsteps were left in her wake, and no sound heralded her stride. Even in the Underworld, she was almost a ghost.

The man waiting for them behind Cerebus' gate was more human than Sydney expected. Unlike most humans on the surface, he wore trousers, a dark coat hanging from his shoulders. If she had met him in Athens, she might have thought him a barbarian visiting the city for trade, but there was no mistaking this man. She had never seen him before, and never heard him described, but she knew.

"My name is Dimitri," he said. "I am sorry that you had to join me here. Each of you will be tried in turn, but for now – welcome to my kingdom."

* * *

Adrian, apparently, had been a repeat visitor to Abe's little court. Athens at large might have played at democracy, but within his own walls, Abe was the unquestioned king. Adrian came most weeks, lurking in the corner. When he wanted to, he shone brighter than any other guest, but for the most part, he seemed to be content to brood. Sydney found herself talking to him in the corner. He was a better guest than most.

Most guests claimed that they came for the conversation and company. It might even have been true – if all they wanted was sex, then there were others to go to, less pricy and less talkative. But it always made Sydney why they didn't simply look for it in their own wives, why they continued to raise their daughters to be silent and obedient. Being a hetaira came with certain privileges: an education, the right to speak to men on largely equal terms – but it also came with its distinct advantages. Most women in Athens had a guardian, protection from the world at large – the hetaira had only Abe.

"Why does he keep coming?" she asked Abe, once. "He barely seems to take an interest in any of us."

"He's an Ivashkov," said Abe, glancing at Adrian out of the corner of his eye. "But he's also the son of a Muse. Nathan Ivashkov has never forgiven being slighted, even by a goddess. He'll find fault with Adrian no matter what he does, so Adrian makes sure to give him faults to find."

Sydney frowned. It made a twisted kind of sense. Her own father always found faults in his daughter, but Sydney had always responded by trying to squish down any of her flaws until she was little more than a blank slate around him. Adrian did the opposite, then. They were both hemmed in by expectations – well, she had been, right up until she had struck her detail with Abe and Keith Darnell had dropped dead on his wedding day.

"You've caught his eye," added Abe. "Make sure you keep it."

Sydney nodded. She wasn't manipulating Adrian, not really. Not in the way Abe wanted her to. She spoke to Adrian because he was better company than anyone else. He made her smile, even in this life that she had never thought she would lead.

"Sage!" greeted Adrian. "Fiery as ever." She was decked out in her red gown once more, golden jewellery glinted at her neck, wrists and ears.

Sydney smiled. "Only for you, Adrian."

He grinned. "Want to get out of here?"

She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. Adrian had already paid for his time, and Abe _had_ said to keep his eye. _This was the only way to keep him interested_, she practiced. She looked back at Adrian, taking in his green, green eyes. "Yes."

They crept out of the villa when Abe's back was turned, giggling like children. Dusk was falling outside, and her jewellery shone in the firelight whenever she looked down. Everyone they passed looked twice at Sydney, ranging anywhere from shock to disapproval, but when Adrian took her hand in his, she couldn't bring herself to care. He led her through the winding Athenian streets, past one building then another, until finally he pulled her to a stop before a large home with pleasant trees shading the entrance.

"_This_ is your home?" she asked. Even her family home hadn't been so big.

Adrian shrugged easily. "My father might not like me very much, but I _am_ an Ivashkov, and he has to keep up appearances," he said, smirk on his lips. He tugged her inside.

Feet sounded on the stairs as soon as the door was pulled closed behind them. "Adrian!" exclaimed a female voice, and half a moment later, a girl with a cloud of brown curls leapt from the bottom of the stairs. She hesitated at the sight of Sydney. "I didn't realise you were bringing company."

"Jill, this is Sydney Sage," said Adrian. "Sage, Jill."

"Are you – married?" asked Sydney, her stomach dropping. Adrian was younger than most married men, but Jill was of marrying age, and she couldn't see why else Jill would be living with him. They looked too different to be siblings: they had a similar build, but Jill's hair was several shades lighter, and their eyes and facial structure were nothing alike.

"No!" exclaimed Adrian, Jill grimacing at the thought. "We're distant cousins. One thing led to another and now, I'm her guardian."

"Are you a hetaira?" interrupted Jill.

"Uh, yes," said Sydney.

"Your father is going to kill you," said Jill to Adrian.

"Believe it or not, not everything I do is because of my father," said Adrian loftily. "Sage is here because she's my friend, not because she's a hetaira, and because she looked like she could use a break."

"I did?" asked Sydney.

"Come on, Sage," said Adrian. "You hate it there. Everyone knows it. You might have chosen to be there, but that doesn't mean you like it."

Sydney hesitated. "I've made promises," she said. "I gave him my word, and I have to keep it, or nothing will matter." _Carly, Carly, Carly._

Adrian eyed her worriedly, and even Jill's eyebrows furrowed at her words. Neither pressed, though, and after a moment, Adrian said, "Come on." She let him take her hand again so he could lead her further into the courtyard. The floors were pathed with mosaic, but they gave way to grass in the centre, just before a pool of clear, dark water.

"It's lovely," breathed Sydney. Jill tugged up the bottom of her robes and sat at its edge, sliding her feet into the water. Sydney took a moment to kick off her sandals before following suit. She had to drag the scarlet fabric up to her knees to keep it from trailing in the water. Adrian sat between the two, and she couldn't help but think of how her father would react if he saw her right now.

_Too bright,_ he would have said. _And two women alone with a man, no chaperone!_

She tuned her father out. She hadn't been happy in a long time, and she wouldn't let her father – even an imaginary version – ruin it.

* * *

Adrian sang, and he sang, and he sang.

The flowers still bloomed, and the green leaves still swayed in the wind, and baby birds still chirped in the trees. Nothing he could do changed the pace of the seasons. The world stubbornly remained full of colour, green and gold and red and blue. Nothing ever compared to the golden lily on Sydney's cheek, but it refused to fade to grey, either.

Adrian kept singing. What else was there to do?

Jill found him as night began to fall. Her hair was pinned up, and she tucked the long folds of her peplos under her legs as she knelt down next to him. "My sister's coming," she said quietly.

"Vasilisa?" asked Adrian. He had always known that Jill was like him, with a parent on Olympus who had never deigned to visit their mortal children. Vasilisa did, though. Goddess of the harvest and of the spring, she had always taken more of an interest in the lives of her half-siblings than the other Olympians.

"Lissa," corrected Jill. "You're not the only one who has lost someone to the Underworld. She heard you singing."

"She's not going to bring Sydney back," said Adrian, turning away. Vasilisa was the Law-bringer, the Life-giver, of the Grain: she was _life. _But it was too late for Sydney. Sydney was no longer part of Vasilisa's domain.

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Jill, reaching out to lie her hand on his shoulder. "The Gods can do many things, and Lissa has always been more invested in humanity than most on Olympus. Meet with her, Adrian. Please."

After a long moment, Adrian nodded. Jill sighed and leant her head against his shoulder. "I miss her, too," said Jill.

Sydney first met Jaclyn Terwilliger at another one of Abe's party, with no idea how much that one meeting would change her life forever.

"I've seen you once or twice before," said Jaclyn, peering at Sydney curiously. "You're one of the Sage sisters, aren't you?"

"Yes," said Sydney. She hesitated. "Well, I was, anyway."

Jaclyn smiled. "I imagine your father wasn't terribly happy with your decision to become a hetaira. Were you?"

"Of course," said Sydney, fixing a smile to her face. "I don't have to hide my intelligence anymore, at least. I can read and debate philosophy with men now. Maybe they don't always respect me, but I wouldn't even have that if I married who my father wanted."

Jaclyn nodded slowly, her gaze sharpening. "If you ever want more than this, then you should find me," she said, her voice dropping low. "There's something about you, Sydney. Something that I have no doubt the Daughters of Medea would love to have within their ranks."

Sydney's breath caught. "The Daughters of Medea?" she repeated. Sorceresses, witches every one of them. They honoured a woman who had murdered her own children just to get revenge. She had been told the story of Medea many times growing up. Her father even had taken Sydney and her sisters to see the play as children.

"Just think about it," said Jaclyn.

Sydney crept into Adrian's home again two days later. Adrian and Jill sat her down in the dining room, plying her with wine.

"Are you feeling better?" asked Jill anxiously.

"A little," admitted Sydney. "I needed you both to talk me out of something."

"What?" asked Adrian.

"I got invited to join the Daughters of Medea," said Sydney. "And… I'm thinking of joining." She squeezed her eyes shut, fearing the judgement in their eyes, not wanting to see Adrian recoil away from her. After a moment without response, though, she opened her eyes again, peering at them worriedly.

"Why should we talk you out of it?" asked Adrian at last.

"Because – because Medea was wicked!" exclaimed Sydney. "She was a witch – she murdered her own children – she tricked people into killing their father!" She took a deep breath. "They honour a witch. They _are_ witches."

"But didn't she do most of that for a good reason?" ventured Jill. "I mean, not the murdering her children thing – but I always hated Jason, listening to those stories, not Medea."

Sydney blinked. "What?"

"And even then," said Adrian, "it's not like _they're_ murdering children, right? They can't be, or the Ecclesia would have shut them down already."

"But -" said Sydney, before she lost her voice entirely. _But Medea's evil_, she thought. Her mind seemed to be stuck in a loop. She had had it drilled into her head ever since she was a child. But was it her thought – or was it her father's?

"Think about it this way," said Adrian. "This might be your way out from under Abe's thumb, and you can say as much as you like that you chose to be there, you can choose to move on, too."

"I can't wield magic," said Sydney, her voice weak.

"They must have seen something in you," said Adrian. He covered her hand with his, and her skin burned where he touched. "Just like we did."

* * *

"Sydney Sage," said Dimitri. Standing alone before the God of Death, Sydney felt vulnerable. It was time for judgement. Her entire life stretched out before her, and her father's voice echoed in her mind like a demon she couldn't exorcise.

"I don't regret anything," she blurted out.

Dimitri blinked at her in surprise. "I'm glad, then. Too many people come here filled with regrets: words of love they never spoke, words of anger they spoke too soon."

_I do have some regrets, then,_ she thought. When was the last time she had told Adrian she loved him? Had she hugged Eddie at his and Jill's wedding? Had Zoe ever truly forgiven her?

"There was always more that I could do," said Sydney at last. "I wish… if anything, I wish I had done it all sooner." Met Adrian earlier, explored magic in greater depths, befriended Jill and Eddie so much earlier.

There was a chill in the air. Without the sun, the air felt cold and damp. Was there ever summer here? The Underworld was cavernous, the roof stretching so high above their heads that it seemed to have stars all of its own. Dimitri was not among them, not like the Olympians in the world above. At the very least, he was personally judging Sydney.

Dimitri offered her a smile, then said, "Now. There's just the matter of deciding which realm you belong in."

Sydney hesitated. "It won't be Tartarus, will it?"

"No," said Dimitri. "You've lived an unusual life for an Attic woman, and you've made mistakes and done some wrongs – but most of that was done in defence of your loved ones. Even what you had done to Keith Darnell still showed your love for your sister and for other women in Athens."

"I just tried to do what I thought to be right," said Sydney. "Not… not what my father told me was right, or anyone else. What _I _thought was right."

"It's the most we can ask of anyone," said Dimitri.

* * *

"Adrian!" trilled Sydney. She had her hair and much of her face covered in cloth, a welcome barrier between her and the summer sun. She didn't need to creep out of Abe's villa anymore. Instead, her belongings had been piled up and moved across town into Jaclyn's quarters. She wasn't entirely sure what Jaclyn had promised Abe to make him lift Sydney's contract – some kind of magical assistance in the future? – but it had happened. She was out of there.

And more than that, Jaclyn's quarters were closer to both Carly's new home and to Adrian's. She was still unwelcome in her family home, making her mother and Zoe off limits, but Carly and her new husband, Marcus, had welcomed her. And Adrian and Jill, of course, opened their doors to Sydney any time she called.

"That you, Sage?" called Adrian, emerging from one of the rooms off the courtyard. He smiled broadly at the sight of her. "I'm not sure I've ever seen you so excited."

"Watch this," said Sydney, walking over to one of the lamps at the edges of the courtyard. "Into flame, into flame," she murmured, dropping the parcel of herbs and stones into it. The lamp obediently caught alight, and a thrill of power and excitement raced through Sydney. She'd never had access to any kind of power in her own right before, trapped first in her father's house then in Abe's. It was a heady feeling, like she could take on the world.

"You've moved in with Jacqui?" asked Adrian, pleased.

Sydney nodded eagerly. "I'm out of Abe's forever."

Adrian's green eyes burned. "Then I hope you don't mind if I do this." He caught one of her hands in his, and slipped the other on to her cheek. She barely had time to wonder what he was doing before he leaned down and kissed her.

Sydney responded automatically, pressing herself up and against him. She wound her free hand through his hair. Everything about Adrian was soft, from his lips to his hair, and Sydney couldn't have stopped herself from leaning further into him, soaking in every last part of him. Warmth ran through the length of her body, fire sparking where Adrian's fingers roamed.

When he pulled away – moments or hours later, she didn't know – Sydney followed him for half a moment before she stopped. "Why did you do that?" she whispered.

"Because I wanted to, and you're free now, and I never wanted you to think that I was only with you because of what you were," said Adrian. "Because you are the most beautiful creature that has ever walked the earth, and you are beautiful and kind and the smartest person who I've ever met. You're _perfect_, Sydney."

"I'm not perfect," said Sydney, automatically.

"No, you're not," said Adrian. "But for me – to me – you are."

No orders. No criticisms. No expectations. Just a pair of emerald green eyes watching her tenderly.

Sydney let herself smile, and stood up on the tips of her toes to kiss him again.

* * *

Vasilisa wasn't the only Goddess to come with Jill. Shadowkissed Rose was with them both. Vasilisa and Rose were a study of contrasts; Vasilisa stood pale and fair, her hair falling like spun gold across her shoulders. Rose was as tanned as any Trojan, her dark hair waving across the length of her back. They both had flowers braided into their hair, goddesses of the spring and summer as they were.

"You lost someone," said Rose. "We've heard you singing, even from the tops of Mount Olympus."

"Her name was Sydney," choked out Adrian. "Her father had her murdered because she was too much – too full of life and magic for him."

"A terrible crime," murmured Lissa. "I will see him punished for it."

"As will I," said Rose. "My husband and I don't wish to send anyone to Tartarus, but murdering one's own child for only wishing to make a better life for herself – there aren't many more damned than him." Shadowkissed Rose – the Queen of the Underworld, beloved by the Lord of the Dead, who spent half her time below the ground with him and half with Vasilisa above. The flowers in both her and Vailisa's hair would wither when she returned to her husband in Vasilia's grief.

"Is there anything that can be done?" asked Jill, desperately. She appealed to Lissa. "Sydney's practically my sister, at this point. She helped me to marry Eddie, and she served as a Daughter of Medea. She was taken from the world too soon."

Vasilisa and Rose exchanged looks. "Perhaps," said Rose, at long last. "I cannot promise anything. There are laws that run deeper in the fabric of the world than any of the Gods. But we can try, yes."

Vasilisa looked at Rose, the grief in her eyes deep enough to drown in. "It's time, isn't it?"

Rose nodded. "I'll miss you." She pulled Vasilisa into a hug that Vasilisa accepted desperately, burying her face into Rose's shoulder. They stood together for long moment, Rose whispering things into Vasilisa's ear that Adrian couldn't – and didn't want to – hear. When Rose pulled away, there were tears running down Lissa's cheeks. Rose held her hand out to Adrian. "Come."

"What – to the Underworld?" said Adrian.

"Of course," said Rose. "If you want her back, where else would you go?"

Adrian flicked his eyes over to Jill. "I love you, Jill. Tell Castile he better treat you well."

"Adrian -!"

Adrian reached out and took Rose's hand.

* * *

Sydney could feel it, the moment that Rose passed over the threshold and back into the Underworld. Apparently, Rose brought summer with her to the Underworld just as much as she did to the world above them: warmth began to permeate the air, chasing out the damp chill of before.

Before her, Dimitri straightened his back, the very beginnings of a smile on his face. Sydney couldn't help her own smile at the sight. She didn't know how long it would be until Adrian again, but she could take some simple joy in the sight of somebody – even a God – about to reunite with their lover.

Her first sight of Rose was a streak of dark hair racing past her. Rose threw herself into Dimitri's waiting arms, and he swung her round in a circle, her feet lifted off the ground. He was almost a full head taller than her, but it didn't seem to matter. Rose leant down and kissed him soundly before Dimitri let her sink back to the floor.

"How was Olympus?" asked Dimitri.

"Lissa's getting married," enthused Rose. "She and Christian are holding off so I can be there, and they're hoping that you'll be able to come for it, too, even if it's just for the day."

"I'll be there," promised Dimitri, pressing a kiss to Rose's nose.

Somebody touched Sydney's shoulder. She didn't want to turn away from the joy in front of her, but she still looked over her shoulder. She gasped at the sight.

"How are you here?" she asked, pulling Adrian into a tight hug before she could even think.

"Rose brought me," said Adrian. "She said there might be a way for you to come back – for me to bring you home."

Sydney frowned, her forehead creasing. "But that's impossible."

"It might not be," said Adrian. "We need you, back up there. Jill, Eddie, Carly -"

Sydney interrupted him by pressing her lips to his. Adrian was eager to let himself be distracted, his mouth opening under hers and his hands tangling themselves in her hair. He was still warm, thought Sydney. Not even the Underworld could steal that from him.

Someone cleared their throat, and Sydney reluctantly pulled away. Rose and Dimitri were watching them, still tangled in each other's arms. "Rose tells me that you want to take Sydney back to the surface," said Dimitri.

"Yes," said Adrian. "She was _murdered_, by her own father at that. She was taken from all of us far too soon."

"Many people have been murdered," pointed out Dimitri. "An unfortunate amount of them by their own fathers."

Adrian hesitated, bowing his head. Sydney broke in. "You were struggling to decide where I should spend my days," she said. "Perhaps, if I go back, you can use the rest of my life to decide."

Rose laughed, clear and bright. "You should have been a lawyer."

Sydney smiled, bitterness playing round the edges. "Maybe if I hadn't been born in Athens."

"It isn't as simple as letting you go," said Dimitri. "I might be God of the Underworld, but I don't control death itself. The Underworld, Olympus, your world – they all existed long before I took up lordship here, and they'll exist even when we are overcome. There are rules to death." Sydney reached out and took Adrian's hand, intertwining her fingers with his. They clung on to each other, using each other's touch as strength. "But… there is something you can try."

"Really?" asked Adrian, voice eager.

"Doubt will be your enemy," warned Dimitri. "You will have to lead Sydney out of the Underworld, and you cannot doubt her. You cannot look back, or she will be returned to the Underworld."

"Do you trust each other?" asked Rose.

"We do," said Adrian and Sydney together. She squeezed his hand.

"Then good luck," said Rose. "I hope that I won't be seeing either of you for a very long time." Dimitri flicked his hand, and a cavern opened up before them, with stairs carved into the side of a steep, sharp cliff.

"Can we have a moment, before we go?" asked Sydney. Dimitri nodded, and she led Adrian a few steps away, just far enough for their words to be private. She leant her forehead forwards to rest against his, their breath intermingling.

"I love you," she told him, her voice hushed and reverent. "By all the gods, Adrian. I don't know what my life would have been without you, and I don't want to know."

"I love you, too," said Adrian, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"But I need you to know," said Sydney. "This might not work." Adrian opened his mouth to protest, but she plunged onwards before he could get a word out. "Don't argue, Adrian. Dimitri and Rose have ruled this place for thousands of years. If they're not sure, then the possibility is there."

"You're too rational for your own good," grumbled Adrian.

Sydney smiled at that, just a little. "I need you to promise me that if this doesn't work, that if you can't bring me back above, then you won't come back for me here. You'll stay there, and you'll live a long life with Jill, and Eddie, and all of the others. Promise me, Adrian. Or I'll tell Rose to take you back alone."

Adrian looked pained. "Sage…"

"Please, Adrian."

He swallowed hard. "I promise, Sydney." She tangled both of her hands in his and squeezed them gently.

"Let's go."

* * *

The warmth faded away as Adrian led Sydney up the stairs. It had to be because they were leaving Rose behind and all the golden sunlight she had brought with her from the world above. The chill wormed its way into Adrian's bones, spreading from his hands and feet up into his chest.

"It won't be long now," said Adrian, forcing confidence into his voice. "And the climb will warm us up again." It was the kind of thing Sydney would say; using logic to find a silver lining to their situation. He couldn't hear her behind him, but that was probably part of the test. It would be easy not to doubt if it was obvious she was with him, puffing from the exertion and feet slapping against the stone. Her footsteps hadn't made any sound even when they were standing before Rose and Dimitri.

He wondered if he was allowed to look back to them to wave farewell. _Best not_, he decided. He couldn't risk Sydney.

"Imagine the look on Jill and Eddie's face when you come back," continued Adrian. "No, scratch that: imagine your father's! We should take him to court, or _something._ He needs to be help responsible for what he did. I know that he'll punished when he comes here, but he doesn't deserve any glory among the living, either."

Adrian shook his head. "This probably isn't what you want to be hearing right now. Well, Carly's pregnant. She told me only just after you died. Said that if the baby was a girl, she and Marcus were going to name her after you." He still couldn't hear her behind him. She didn't say anything, but he could picture her reaction anyway: a look of surprise crossing her beautiful face, before a pleased, shy smile began to tug at her lips, lighting up her entire face.

"Marcus is panicked, of course," continued Adrian. "I don't think I've ever seen him so worried about anything. He'll barely let Carly do anything. No doubt she'll set him straight soon enough." He was beginning to sweat now, his breath beginning to come in a little shorter. He kept up his chattering, trying to fill the silence with his own voice. He even began to sing: long songs that he had written for her first, then songs from across Athens, and then finally ditties from his childhood.

Even Adrian couldn't talk forever, though. Eventually his pauses became longer and longer, until it was impossible to call them anything but silence. And in that silence, she came.

_What do you think you're doing?_ asked Aunt Tatiana, her voice snider than it had ever been in life.

"Go away, Aunt Tatiana," he muttered under his breath, unwilling to let Sydney hear him.

_What makes you think you can do this?_ said Aunt Tatiana. _No _human_ has ever returned from the Underworld. That honour belongs to a goddess, and a goddess alone._

"She might as well be a goddess," snapped Adrian. "Learning magic, defying her father – if anyone can pull this off, it's her."

_But you, though?_ asked Tatiana. _What have you got to your name? Some pretty songs._

"She loves my songs," said Adrian.

_Music isn't enough to escape the jaws of Cerberus._

"Cerberus isn't hunting us," said Adrian sharply. "Dimitri let us go."

_Oh, Adrian. You've heard the stories. The gods play with us mortals. Your own _mother_ abandoned you. What makes you think they're any different?_

"You're not real," whispered Adrian, trying to remind himself of that.

_You're in the Underworld. Who says I'm not?_

"I've been hearing you for years," said Adrian. "If you were real, I'd _see_ you. You'd be a solid thing, like Sydney is. You wouldn't be a phantom at the edges of my mind."

_She doesn't sound very solid._

"She is," insisted Adrian. "She's right behind me. I'm not going to doubt her."

The exit was just above him. Only a few more steps. He was so close. So, so close. They would be free soon, free to live the life together that they had always planned.

_Oh, Adrian. If I'm only a figment of your imagination, then you've already doubted._

Adrian stopped short, his heart skipping a beat. He had ruined it. He had let all of his insecurities get the better of him, and it had doomed Sydney to the Underworld. Maybe he hadn't been able to hear her at first because of the test, but he couldn't hear her now because she was no longer there.

He had doubted. It was over.

He turned, wanting to spy her somewhere in the depths of the Underworld – but there she was. Only a half-step behind him. Her mouth opened as their eyes met. His stomach dropped. She reached out to touch her hand against his cheek, and said something. The words were soundless, though, still trapped by whatever invisible barrier the Underworld had conjured between them. He probably couldn't have heard them, anyway. His blood roared in his ears.

"I'm sorry," said Adrian, trying to catch her hand. But she was already drifting away, no matter how they reached for each other. "Sydney! _Sydney!"_

* * *

"This feels too good to be true," Adrian had said on their wedding night. They were alone at last, the other feasters locked outside.

She was in a red gown again, with golden leaves woven through her hair. She gave him a golden smile, reaching out to take his chiton in her hands and tug him closer. "We did it, Adrian," she said, her body pressed up against him.

"We did it," repeated Adrian, wrapping his arms around her waist and hitching her closer. She pressed a long, linger kiss to his jaw. "I keep feeling like the other shoe is about to drop somehow."

"It won't," she promised. "I will always be here, right next to you. The centre will hold, Adrian."

"Because we are the centre," whispered Adrian.

Her expression softened. "Because we are the centre," she repeated. She lifted herself up to kiss him straight on, and Adrian melted into her, into the golden sensation of her against him. Without any more thought, he lifted her into his arms and laid her back on to the bed.

He pulled back, only for a moment. She made a protesting noise in the back of her throat. "Gods, I love you."

"I love you, too," she said. Then her expression became more challenging. "Now prove it."

How was he meant to pass up a challenge like that? He caught her lips again, fire burning along his whole body. She was perfect, and beautiful, and best of all – _his._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_(bonus:)_

"Do you want me to take a letter?" asked Rose. The flowers were long gone from her hair, probably scattered somewhere across the Underworld.

Sydney looked up, cocking her head to one side. "You do that?"

"Not very often," said Rose. "I can't take letters back for everyone who's died. I might have half the year up there, but even that's not enough to deliver them all. But you and Adrian – well, I like you."

Rose had never been shy about that. Both she and Dimitri had been disappointed when she had fallen to their feet, still straining to get back to Adrian. It had been Rose who had wrapped Sydney into a hug when she realised that he was gone for good. It had been Rose who had always made sure to check in with Sydney every day since. Sydney would miss her when she was gone, but there was always Dimitri. She had taken to helping him judge the dead as they filtered into the Underworld. It was good work, hard yet fulfilling, and it gave Dimitri more time to be with Rose, something Sydney could never begrudge.

"Can you give me a minute to write it?" she asked.

"Of course," said Rose. "I'm not going for a few days, yet."

It took Sydney all of those remaining days to write it. She didn't know how to tell him that she didn't blame him, that she still loved him and she was counting the days for him to join her again – but that he still should live out a happy life among all of their friends.

At last, she handed the letter to Rose only moments before Rose stepped back across the void. It was a simple message: _The centre still holds._


End file.
